It was from old fears that Nigredo locked his lips, from ancient habits that he grinded his anxieties to dust as brothers took to words. As one set their trauma to the melodic, carved their four weeks into a lengthy diatribe, he gazed down at his scuffed boots and felt powerless. When it came to the twins, he found he was experiencing nothing different from the past year--that despite the middle variant's propensity for drama, his preference for the argumentative, for the length and breadth of the younger's understanding of motives, Nigredo could never disagree with what was given.
It was from cowardice that he would keep to silence. For all his care and respect for the eldest, for the protection he would offer at a moment's notice, Nigredo had always held a leaning toward Albedo's mindset, an unspoken empathy in regards to his plight. For all the efforts placed upon moderating the twins' polarizing opinions, he would have rather voiced assent with the one looked upon with disfavor.
Here, it went no differently. Except here, Nigredo's fear traversed through a territory unknown. This time, Rubedo recognized the truth in their actions, the wordless agreement from Nigredo on Albedo's behalf. The look thrown spoke of nothing less; what else would pallor describe except for dissonance? He was afraid of the outcome, suddenly.
Even as he witnessed a worse fear coming from the one close by.
Rubedo, however, proved contrary, enough that Nigredo's head flick toward the redhead in shock. Though the first and the third aspects settled nothing in particular, the second touched on sentiments long since buried with the variant. Worth. Value.
Existence. For a brief, stuttering instant, Nigredo wondered if his memory might have missed the mark. His mind also caught the impression of a dark-haired girl (whimsical in her choices in friendships), though he hadn't an idea as to why. When Rubedo paused the exchange and stepped away nervously to a nearby dilapidation, the youngest stared after him with wide eyes, before glancing at Albedo with the same.
What had just happened? he seemed to ask. In that instant, what had changed? Nigredo could not say. He remained as such until there was a request for decent conversation, and Rubedo had thrown both table and sense out a window. For those reasons, Nigredo felt oddly out of sync.
"We should-- H-He's going to break his back," he stammered, not recognizing his own voice. "We should help him."
no subject
It was from cowardice that he would keep to silence. For all his care and respect for the eldest, for the protection he would offer at a moment's notice, Nigredo had always held a leaning toward Albedo's mindset, an unspoken empathy in regards to his plight. For all the efforts placed upon moderating the twins' polarizing opinions, he would have rather voiced assent with the one looked upon with disfavor.
Here, it went no differently. Except here, Nigredo's fear traversed through a territory unknown. This time, Rubedo recognized the truth in their actions, the wordless agreement from Nigredo on Albedo's behalf. The look thrown spoke of nothing less; what else would pallor describe except for dissonance? He was afraid of the outcome, suddenly.
Even as he witnessed a worse fear coming from the one close by.
Rubedo, however, proved contrary, enough that Nigredo's head flick toward the redhead in shock. Though the first and the third aspects settled nothing in particular, the second touched on sentiments long since buried with the variant. Worth. Value.
Existence. For a brief, stuttering instant, Nigredo wondered if his memory might have missed the mark. His mind also caught the impression of a dark-haired girl (whimsical in her choices in friendships), though he hadn't an idea as to why. When Rubedo paused the exchange and stepped away nervously to a nearby dilapidation, the youngest stared after him with wide eyes, before glancing at Albedo with the same.
What had just happened? he seemed to ask. In that instant, what had changed? Nigredo could not say. He remained as such until there was a request for decent conversation, and Rubedo had thrown both table and sense out a window. For those reasons, Nigredo felt oddly out of sync.
"We should-- H-He's going to break his back," he stammered, not recognizing his own voice. "We should help him."